


but you say I don't know how to love

by raikkonen (armario)



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, But it's really not that angsty, Choking, Deepthroating, M/M, Oral Sex, considering who we're actually talking about, on dick that is. oh dear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-11-02 07:18:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20665715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/armario/pseuds/raikkonen
Summary: Not so much a warning now, as a plea.





	but you say I don't know how to love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [untouchableocean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/untouchableocean/gifts).

> most underrated pairing ever?

Checo promised himself quite vehemently that he'd never do this again. It's been ridiculously easy to avoid Esteban since he left the team. Maybe the young Frenchman had finally taken the hint and that's why it was so easy.  
Now he has no such mercy. He- and it could only be him, even though it's hard to see in the dark- winds his arms around Checo's waist and licks, actually licks, his earlobe. In public. Surrounded by people.  
He can't help but flinch.

"What are you doing," he says, not really a question so much as a venomous warning.

"Missed this," Esteban says. He's grinning, but there's a shy, tender note to his voice. He doesn't push his luck, taking his hands off Checo after the Mexican turns around, and facing him with a smirk.

Checo remembers last year in this same place. After everything, Esteban still came to his hotel room, eyes dark and challenging, biting his lip, the outline of his erection visible through his pants.  
"Not tonight," Checo had gritted out before slamming the door in his face. As though Esteban was at fault.

The kid probably wants a do-over.

Checo has a wife and two kids. He also has Esteban; a provocative, perpetually-horny, viciously competitive 22-year-old who selectively pretends he doesn't know the meaning of the phrase "go away", or at least, whenever Sergio says it.

It's hot, here. Sweat trickles down his back even though he's only wearing a thin shirt. He glances down at his watch, and Esteban watches him expectantly, still standing way too close. He's always pushed it too far.

"Not here," he concedes eventually.

Esteban's face lights up with a happy grin, and he tips forward to press a chaste kiss against Sergio's mouth.

"Are you _stupid?!_ There's fucking people everywhere!" Checo hisses, jerking away. "You want to be the first gay Formula 1 driver?"

"Only if you're the second," Esteban whispers. He slips his keycard into Checo's back pocket and walks away, mixing in with the SkyPark crowd.

*

Esteban crowds him against the wall as soon as he steps through the door.

"Slow the fuck down, I didn't even agree to this-"

Esteban's hands are fumbling clumsily to unbutton Checo's polo, sliding up against his abs and making a soft noise of appraisal.  
"I can't stop," the younger man admits softly. He answered the door wearing just a pair of boxers and a loose sleep shirt. His teeth graze Checo's neck, then almost apologetic, soothes it with his tongue. "Just for tonight, please."

He drops to his knees so fast it probably hurt, but he's only eager to undo Checo's zip and press his cheek against the shape of his hardening cock.

"We have time," Checo murmurs, despite his better judgement. His fingers brush through Esteban's hair.

"I know, I know," Esteban sighs. He tugs Sergio's briefs down, exposing his cock, and closes his eyes for a second. "I have to," he tells him. "I need..."

Checo tries to stop his legs buckling when Esteban leans forward to suckle at the head of his dick. God, he did miss this. Esteban learned how to give a good blowjob by practicing on Checo and the thought makes precum trickle out to wet Esteban's tongue.

_"Joder,"_ Checo breathes. His hips jerk forward reflexively at the sensation of Esteban's wet, warm mouth, and he tries to pull back when Esteban gags a little.  
Esteban makes a reproachful noise at the back of his throat, tilting forward so Checo's cock slides further down his throat.

"Tap my leg if is too much, yeah?" Sergio says raggedly. He doesn't even need to; they've done this too many times, and Esteban is still here on his knees letting Sergio fuck his throat raw.  
He sets a brutal pace, fingers knotted in Esteban's hair, shoving his cock relentlessly forward into the spasming heat of Esteban's throat.  
He's panting harshly, the sound of his shallow breaths vulgar when paired with Esteban's sporadic choking noises.

"Close," is all he can warn. Esteban moans helplessly in agreement, the vibration going straight to Checo's dick.  
Checo comes in his mouth. He doesn't intend to force Esteban to take it, but he mindlessly holds his head still as he pushes his cock as far as it will go and rides out his orgasm.

Esteban taps frantically at his thigh. Checo lets go, but Esteban is already breaking off to cough, one hand pressed over his mouth when he ends up coughing up Checo's cum, tears gathering at his eyes.

"Shit, I'm sorry," Sergio stammers, eyes wide. He didn't mean for that to happen. _Shit._

"N-n-no," Esteban wheezes, still wracked by spasming coughs. "It's okay."

Checo drops down to pull Esteban against his chest. He wasn't planning on anything so affectionate, but having nearly choked the guy to death with his dick, it only seems fair.  
Esteban gets his breathing back under control, hands curling and uncurling in Checo's shirt. He clears his throat.  
Checo can feel Esteban's cock hard against his thigh.

"I really did not mean to do that," he mutters, stroking Esteban's back. He pushes his hand up under the hem of his shirt to scratch comfortingly at his bare skin, and Esteban arches his back in pleasure.  
The Frenchman shifts, exhaling sharply as he drags his clothed cock over Checo's thigh. He repeats the movement, moving his hips more urgently when he realises how good it feels.

"You want to come like that?" Checo murmurs in wonder.

"Mhmm," Esteban responds, barely coherent as he ruts against Checo's thigh like a dog.

When he gets desperate like this, it's so easy to forget how infuriating Esteban is on track, or sometimes off it. He has a knack for finding the right buttons to press. When Verstappen started pushing Esteban around, Checo had been angry, but mainly because he wished he'd done it first.

There was no underlying feeling of possessiveness, or wanting to protect the young driver. None at all. None whatsoever.

_"Buen chico,"_ Checo whispers. _"Venga, querido, córrete ahora, córrete para mí."_

Esteban doesn't speak Spanish, but he understands the sentiment, because his rhythm grinding on Checo's thigh falters, and his grip on Checo's shoulders turns painful as he comes in his underwear with a shaky, breathless curse.  
Checo keeps rubbing Esteban's back, resting his chin on the Frenchman's shoulder as they both come down from their mutual high.

"I can kiss you now?" Esteban asks. His voice is wrecked. Checo would feel a twinge of guilt, but it's hot as fuck.  
He tilts Esteban's head up with his fingers and kisses him. He can taste his own cum, which is disgusting, but his dick doesn't seem to agree because it twitches weakly in interest.  
Esteban never bothers to kiss him properly, he just tries to press his tongue into Sergio's mouth as far as it will go, scrabbling to get impossibly closer. More proof of how young he is; of how sick Sergio is for letting it continue.

He pulls back, lips glistening with saliva.

"Why now?" Checo asks curiously. He's mellowed a little since the kid wrung an orgasm out of him.

"Because I do miss you," Esteban says, with the naïve passion of someone too young to know what love is. "Don't you ever miss me?"

Checo licks his dry lips.  
"No," he lies. Esteban's face falls and he suddenly feels like the worst person on Earth.  
"Get on the bed," he orders, determined to make this more than a quick rut. Esteban's mood swings again and he grins, his tongue peeking out from between his teeth as he disentangles himself from Checo's embrace. He takes off his cum-soaked boxers and tosses them on the floor, at which the Mexican frowns.

Esteban lays back on the bed and Checo joins him, laying on his back and turning his head to look at the Frenchman.

"Are you glad I'm back as a driver?" Esteban asks innocently.

"As long as you don't keep to run me off the track," Checo drawls, but there's not much venom in his voice.

"Huh," Esteban frowns.

"I don't want to think about that shit," Checo says dismissively. "We don't fight here, ah?"  
He touches Esteban's shoulder who nods slowly.

"You know I think about you all the time?" Esteban asks quietly. He sounds vulnerable. Normally he avoids getting into this kind of emotional territory because he knows how shit Checo is at dealing with it.

"You know I am married and have children?" Checo answers bluntly. It sounds horrible when he says it out loud, but he only meant Esteban should move on.  


Esteban sighs. His eyes close and when he speaks, it's in earnest, and his voice is still hoarse. "I keep having girlfriends, but it's not... it doesn't feel right. I have sex with them and I am just thinking about your hands... your mouth, your dick."

"Esteban..." 

Not so much a warning now, as a plea.

"I don't ask for much," the young man says. "I don't ask for you to leave your wife, or tell people you are gay and we are fucking. I just want to see you sometimes," he finishes. "Like this."

He's never considered himself gay, and Esteban is the only man who's ever made him feel like this.  
Seeing as he's already going to hell for cheating on his wife; he figures his sexuality doesn't matter at this point. Still; he has to question himself literally salivating at the candid sight of Esteban's soft cock nestled between his legs.

It isn't just that, though, is it? This is not just sex. It's about rivalry and ownership and protectiveness. It's about taking care of his young teammate who can insult Checo on live TV and then the same night, cry his name over and over when Sergio is balls deep, taking him apart. It's how Esteban cuddles up to Checo like he is a soft toy when he drifts into sleep, looking impossibly young, and Checo just wants to keep him here, kiss him and fuck him and hold him, never let him go because the world is out to chip away at his innocence. The boy thinks he is in love with Sergio, and sickeningly, he finds he wants to preserve that fantasy.

"You can see me," Checo acquiesces. Maybe he can manage it better now they are not teammates. Now Esteban is a year older, maybe he has grown up.

Esteban sits up and positions himself to sit on top of Checo's thighs, bare ass against his jeans-covered dick.

"Je sais que je t'aime," he whispers, lips brushing Checo's jaw. He kisses him deeply, gratefully, one hand fisted in the Mexican's hair, the other cupping his face. Checo firmly believes that there's a certain phrase that no matter the language in which it is uttered, the meaning is universally understood. He's pretty sure Esteban just used that phrase, not for the first time, and Checo is no more certain how to respond now than he was before.  


The younger man breaks the kiss off, leaning back and smiling crookedly, as though he'd only commented on the weather. "Will you fuck me now? I prepared already."  


Checo feels the need to verify that. Esteban, libido that he has, is already hard again and he lets out a soft moan as Checo presses a finger into his ass. It's wet and open; Esteban fingered himself just before Sergio arrived. The feeling makes his cock start to stir again and he curses under his breath.

"Get a condom, then," he rasps. The eagerness with which Esteban slides off him to obey is painfully gratifying, and only ten minutes after he came, he's rock hard again, tearing the packet with his teeth and rolling the condom over his erection, grabbing Esteban too hard by his hips to guide himself inside.  
He knows, the second Esteban slides down into his cock, exhaling shakily, that he would do anything for him right now. However much he pretends he doesn't care, this is heaven, Esteban is heaven. He clamps his mouth shut so anything substantial like a rogue _te quiero_ doesn't slip out amongst the mindless, rambling praise.

It might be Checo's dick in Esteban's ass, but it's Checo who's fucked.


End file.
